Open Up, Enter In
by TheSweetClover
Summary: In the days that follow the Jellicle Ball, how does the Tribe manage with the increased threat from Macavity - especially with their protector becoming worn down and weary?
1. Chapter 1

(Author's Note: I'm new to writing fanfiction and all, so constructive criticism is welcome! I know it's not great, but I can't get any better without people helping me out and such. Thanks!)

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><p>"Open up, would ya!"<p>

A large, slender, main coon tom sat at the front door inside of his home, one paw raised upon the wood frame and his gold-and-black fur fluffed with obvious annoyance. "Oh come on! I don't have all day!" His yowl rang through the house, echoing off the walls as his amber eyes glinted bright. An ear flicked as the tom waited for a response, and when none came claws glinted at the end of his paw. Digging the sharp weapons into the wood, he slowly and deeply scratched down the door, wailing wordlessly as he did so.

"What on earth?"

The heavy footfalls of a male human clattered down the stairs as a feline grin lay on the tom's muzzle. That was exactly what he was looking for.

"You're late," the main coon scoffed as his owner came alongside him, though of course the human could not understand him.

"Oh no, look what you've done!" was the response as the young man gawked at the four deep gouges, twins to the countless others upon the doorframe. "Again! The landlord will _kill _me! Out! You're going out now!"

The tom was grabbed up by his middle and escorted out the door, his goal from the start.

"Why can't you behave, Prince?" the young man queried wearily as he closed the door. 'Prince' said nothing, mew or otherwise, and simply lifted his tail contemptuously as he trotted away into the dusk.

The cat lifted his eyes to the eastern sky, where the clouds hung dark compared to the honey-hued clouds at the setting sun. _Soon it'll be up,_ he thought. _Better get my rear in gear. _He pushed his trot on a bit faster. As the main coon passed a thorned and tangled hedge, a small dark shadow flitted alongside him, shape lost in the shadows of the hedge, yet matching the tom movement for movement.

"Hey Tugger," a voice said from the form.

'Prince,' or as we should now call Tugger, did not even twitch at the new companion, who, coming out of the bush, was revealed to be a small tuxedo cat – black, with a stark white v upon his neck.

"Well if it isn't the Marvelous Mister Mistoffelees," Tugger said with mock awe, casting a hard gaze at the cat. "Come to grace me with his presence. But_ I_ thought I was boring?"

Snorting, Mistoffelees rolled brown eyes so dark they seemed black. "Oh come on Tuggs," he cajoled. "You were being a spotlight stealer. Last night wasn't all about you, if you can fathom that."

Tugger aimed a clawed blow at the other tom's ears, who ducked it with the ease that comes from long practice. Giving one last glare at the black-and-white cat, the hotheaded tom returned his gaze to the dusty path they had come upon. It was a well-worn trail, albeit narrow, with little paw-like dimples all along the brown dirt.

Mistoffelees tilted his head up to look as trash began to close in around them, leaving no place for paws but the path. The two were heading into a junkyard. Despite that fact, the tom simply twitched his nose and returned his gaze back down.

"Well hello," spoke a voice from above them.

Tugger paused, his companion plowing into his backside. The tom flashed bared teeth at the intrusion, and then responded to the hidden speaker. "Munkustrap," he greeted simply. "I hope Demeter is well?" As Tugger spoke the last sentence, his jaw parted into a sly smile.

Apparently Munkustrap was not amused. A lithe, chiseled silver tabby tom slipped out of the shadows of the rubbish, back up and head down; a threat. "Rum Tum Tugger, it would do you well to keep to your own queens," the tom growled. "Or else I might prevent you from satisfying them any longer. Do you understand what it is I am saying?"

Tugger simply scoffed and rolled his eyes, tossing the thick golden ruff about his neck. The tom stalked off further down the path, leaving a ruffled Munkustrap and stunned Mistoffelees to their own company.

The look Munkustrap sent after the main coon could have been compared to some hazel, feline form of a death ray.

Mistoffelees swallowed and glanced at the glowering tabby. "Hey, uh, Munku," he said hesitantly, "I really don't think he, uh, was with Demeter last night. I walked with him back to his house…"

Munku gave a curt nod of his head and turned to face the tuxedo cat, calm in exterior but with simmering eyes. "I know that, Misto. It's that he would think of the thing, though! My own brother!" His claws had unsheathed, but he forced them back.

"He's mine too, you know," Misto reminded the tabby quietly. "And he's not all bad."

Munkustrap grunted and rose to his paws. "Sometimes I wonder," the tom said, and began to head down the trail. "But come on, we can think of this later. The moon is rising."

The trail eventually led through a tunnel into a broad clearing among the junk, forgotten heaps lending resting spots to the cats who now mingled there, waiting. The Rum Tum Tugger settled himself at the highest point, sprawled out and absently drawing his tongue over a black-spotted gold paw. Every so often a queen or female kitten would notice him and squeal excitedly, but the tom ignored the attention, oddly, and glanced his gaze up towards the hazy distant sky. Soon.

Munkustrap and Mistoffelees came from the tunnel and stepped out towards the other cats, who crowded around them with purrs and rubbing heads. Mistoffelees eagerly rubbed back, eating up the new attention he was receiving since what had happened the night before. Munkustrap, on the other hand, returned each cat a gracious dip of his head. The silver tabby was used to such treatment.

Pulling away from the kitten crowd who had begun to gather around his younger tuxedo brother, Munku pointed his elegant muzzle towards the eastern sky. With a brief narrowing of his hazel eyes as he calculated the light, the tom quietly lifted his tail erect.

At the unspoken signal, all the cats vanished into the shadows like wraiths, leaving Munkustrap alone in the starlight. The tom sat, still and straight, and waited. Not a breath was breathed. Gradually, the tabby lowered his head, just as the waning moon appeared hesitantly over the horizon. A breeze, scented almost of magic, if there is such a scent, wafted into the clearing and brushed the fur of the lone cat, his whiskers blowing in the wind.

Then, as if time was growing short, Munkustrap bounded to his paws and then leaned back on his haunches, reaching up as a cat might reach for string. The eyes closed softly. As his forepaws outstretched, a change overtook the tom's body. His body lengthened and thickened, and his muzzle drew back into his face. The fur on his head grew longer, whereas the fur on his body remained sleek and short. Munkustrap developed into a human form, just as feline as he was before, yet as close as he could be to becoming a man without being one.

The tabby-coated cat turned as he now stood, on his two legs, and reached his arms towards the moon making its way up the sky. Gently gliding out into the wash of the light with dancer-like movements, Munkustrap's eyes opened.

"Jellicle Cats come out to-night," he sang. "Jellicle Cats come one, come all. The Jellicle Moon is shining bright – Jellicle Cats come one, come all!" As he finished, the tom opened his arms towards both sides of the clearing. Cats then slipped out of their places, reviled now in their humanoid forms. Still feline in actions, the Jellicles moved gracefully with every step, like a ballerina who never ceased her dance.

Munkustrap let his gaze wander over the transformed cats settling into a rough circle around him. He lingered on a honey-and-dark queen who was his mate, Demeter. She dipped her head to him saucily, but flicked her forepaw at him to continue. A faint smile on his face, the silver tabby called out to address the gathered, his voice still lifted in a tone similar to song, though he sang no tune.

"Last night, we celebrated the Jellicle Ball." At that point he had to pause, for the cats let up yowls of excitement. He lifted a forepaw to gently quiet them. "Old Deuteronomy chose Grizabella, the Glamour Cat, to journey to the Heaviside Layer and be reborn." More cheering. "I ask that any new litters be shown to Tantomile or Coricopat so that we may assess if any of them are Grizabella." The twin cats named tucked their heads in, embarrassed to have such attention drawn to them. Munkustrap continued. "Old Deuteronomy has returned to his home, and will be back with us next Jellicle Ball. All the rest of us shall continue to meet here each night, as desired by the cat. Any that live in the Junkyard, however, need inform me if they will not be present." The Junkyarders, as informally called by the kittens, were the core of the Jellicle Tribe. In return for the position of power, they were required to give up their homes with their human owners. Munkustrap, who was second in command and protector of the Tribe, was one of the Junkyarders, as well as his mate Demeter, who was with him for more practical reasons than position, and Jellylorum, who was one of the kitten caretakers.

"Lest I forget," Munku continued, "we must thank Mistoffelees for bringing back Old Deuteronomy with his magic, after Macavity took him away." A great meowing rose up from the crowd, and Misto pawed at his nose sheepishy. Grinning, the tabby addressed the group yet again. "Victoria completed her rite of passage, and now may pick such mate as she desires. If she is wise, it won't be Tugger," Munku joked, winking at the white cat who was sitting next to the maned tom and blushing. Tugger, on the other hand, smirked and looped his thumbs into the silver studded belt he now wore.

"Jellicles commence!" the gold-and-black tom yowled out the words that typically finished the addressing, ready for the party-like gathering to get into full swing. "The moon ain't gonna stay up long enough for you to finish, brother."

Previous animosity apparently gone, Munkustrap conceded to the tom's wishes and stepped back, spreading out his arms again, therefore releasing the cats to go about as they pleased. "Tugger, I would say, instead, that the moon won't stay up long enough for _you_ to finish."

The tom sneered again and swaggered off, followed by a starstruck group of she-kittens. He wasn't intent on the fans around him, though, but on the sassy red female chatting with Alonzo, Munkustrap's black-and-white son.

"Ya wanna dance?" Tugger asked her, ignoring the young male entirely.

Immediately neglecting her other companion, the queen leaned against a tire with her arms crossed. Her eyes flicked up and down Tugger as she looked over his lean form, as if she was attempting to make up her mind. "I don't know," she quipped. "Do I?"

Alonzo's brow furrowed in indignation. "Hey!" he addressed the other tom. "I was talking to her first."

Tugger smirked. "I know," he said. "But I'm talking to her now."

That immediately got the black-and-white cat's fur up. Alonzo slipped between the queen and Tugger, back arched and claws unsheathed threateningly. "You can go pet a mouse. She's with me."

The larger tom mimicked his pose, teeth bared and ruff prickling. "Oh yeah? Is she?" Tugger's voice was deep with anger.

The queen watched this mildly, forepaw on hip. Her gaze drifted from cat to cat, and then she rolled her eyes. Her red form slipped away, but neither male noticed.

The Rum Tum Tugger jabbed a paw at Alonzo's chest, pricking him with a claw. "She's _my_ mate; every Jellicle knows it."

The younger tom batted Tugger's arm away, drawing a bit of blood on his wrist, starkly crimson against the black. "Oh yeah?" he said bitterly. "She and every other queen. We all know you aren't steady. You both play the field."

Unable to deny it, the gold-and-black tom growled harshly, eyes glittering dangerously. "You leave her to me, you understand that?"

Alonzo's tail lashed. "I don't think you have-"

Suddenly Mistoffelees appeared alongside them, having slipped out of the shadows. His dark eyes where curious and innocent as he said, "What'cha guys doing?"

Alonzo turned to where the queen had been standing. "Bomba, tell Misto that I was just- huh? She left!"

Both toms glowered at each other, blaming the other for the absence of Bombalurina. Misto stood there awkwardly, teeth biting at his lip. The tuxedo cat was regretting getting into this conversation. Tugger glanced over at his brother.

"Alonzo was messing with my gal," he said bitterly.

"Oh, I didn't know you two were…" Mistoffelees trailed off weakly as Tugger glared at him.

Alonzo snorted, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "They aren't," he said. "Rum Tum here just wants her to himself, and every other queen on top of it."

Misto shrugged timidly with an appeasing smile on his face. "He will do as he do do," he attempted lightly.

The black-and-white tom was having none of it. He scowled and began to stalk away. "And one day I'm doing something about it," he muttered as he left.

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><p>Munkustrap sat on top of the tunnel on the other side of the junkyard from the quarreling toms, eyes troubled and dark as they turned up towards the moon. His mate Demeter sat next to him, side pressed against his. She looked up at his preoccupied face and dropped her gaze back down, a slight shiver running through her body. Munkustrap immediately stiffened and turned his upper body towards her, draping a protective arm over her shoulders.<p>

"Is he near?" was the simple question the tabby asked.

Demeter shook her head. "No," she replied quietly. "I was just thinking... he knows exactly where we are. He knows exactly when the Ball is. What if… he takes Old Deuteronomy for good next time?" The queen was speaking of Macavity, the mastermind of all criminal acts in the area. He had once lived in the Jellicle Tribe, and had never forgiven them for kicking him out. Demeter had, at one time, been the ginger cat's mate; he was abusive, however, and after a time Demeter fled - only to be tracked down and raped. Fortunate to survive with her life, she still had an uncanny sense of when he was prowling around.

Munkustrap pulled Demeter closer to him and pressed his lips against her forehead, hazel eyes glimmering worry. "Don't fret about him; we fought him off and Misto foiled his plan, so I do not think he will so keen to return."

The honey-and-dark queen nuzzled into her mate's chest. "It will have only made it personal to him," she whispered shakily. "He'll be back."

Knowing that she spoke the truth, Munkustrap closed his eyes and sighed, saying nothing. The weight of the Tribe was on his shoulders, it seemed, with him the only cat between them and Macavity. But Munku always felt the pressure that came with his position as second in command; it was nothing new.

"Why don't you go down there with them?" the silver tabby asked her, gesturing his forepaw down at the Jellicle cats mingling about, some even singing and dancing. "It'd cheer you up."

Demeter granted him a lopsided smile, preparing to slip down from the pipe. "I might as well find Bomba," she said with slightly forced cheeriness. "See what the current gossip is."

Munkustrap sighed again as he watched her slide down and make her way across the clearing, seeking the red queen. After seeing Demeter find her friend, the tom returned his gaze back up to the moon wearily. It had been some time since he had been able to let loose and enjoy himself such as the others did. That's not to say that he regretted his position as protector, but he envied them all the same. Even during the Ball, that grand celebration, he had to be constantly on alert. It was exhausting the silver tabby, more than he was willing to admit.

Much, much more.


	2. Chapter 2

(Author's Note: Do ignore my horrid song-writing skills. :P And yeah I know, fail cockney accent is fail.)

In the clearing, the moonlit gathering had come into full swing. Many cats chatted and twirled about, choruses of the Ball the night before still raging like fire in their minds. Even those who played no main part in the celebration knew every line and song by heart, though they had only heard many of them just that once; it was such an occasion that everything had to be committed to memory, with nothing left out. Many of the younger ones grouped together and planned new songs, hoping to be allowed to sing at the next Jellicle Ball.

Misto sat hidden in the shadows on a large tire and watched the mingling cats, dark eyes glimmering in the light of the moon. The tuxedo tom had danced a solo during the Ball, and used his magic to recover Old Deuteronomy from Macavity. Since then, the younger females had been all over him, as they were with any tom thrust into the spotlight; willing, as with Tugger, or not. Misto had originally enjoyed the attention, but it was getting to the shy cat. He didn't _like_ being followed around everywhere he went, with a young queen squealing if she simply brushed his fur. It was exasperating, to say the least. So he stayed in the shadows, hidden partly by his dark coat and partly by some unintended magic.

The tuxedo cat heard a pawstep behind him and his head quickly shot around to face it, but no cat was to be seen. He slowly turned back, but couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. After a moment of the unpleasant sensation, Mistoffelees returned his gaze to the shadows, eyes narrow as they tried to cut through the dark. He thought, after a few minutes of scrutiny, he could make out the calico form of a tom.

"Who's there?" Misto called out, unwittingly ceasing the magic that made him unseen.

The strange tom's head swung up and the moon hit his face; it was simply Mungojerry, half a pair of calicos prone to stealing and getting into trouble.

"Eh!" Mungo replied, startled. "Oh, Misto. Didna see ya there. What'cha doin' by your lonesome over here?" The calico rose out of his crouch and strode towards the young cat.

Not concerned with the thieving reputation of Mungojerry, Misto scooted over for the tom to sit next to him. Mungo flopped down, bouncing a little on the rubber tire.

"I'm trying to get away from them," the tuxedo cat replied, flicking his forepaw at the she-kittens in the clearing, who were sitting in a circle and chatting. "They are just so… _annoying!_"

The calico snorted at that. "Are ya tellin' me that ya don't _like_ the attention from the gals?" Mungo smirked, hinting at an implied meaning.

The tom scowled and swiped his paw at Mungo, nearly clipping his ginger ear. "You know what I mean!"

"Hey, hey, joke," Mungo said, holding his arms up defensively. "I get ya. Don't worry 'bout it, mate."

"What do you mean?"

The calico shrugged. "They'll move on. Ya have to keep doin' stuff to keep them interested, like Tugger does with all 'is showin' off. If ya just let 'em 'lone, they'll leave ya 'lone, eventually."

Misto frowned, his white forehead scrunching up as he did so. "I'm not so sure I like the word 'eventually,'" he said. _The sooner the better, _he thought. _I can't even walk across the clearing without having to push through a crowd. And their squealing hurts my ears._

"Sorry, mate," Mungojerry replied, clapping the younger tom on the back and rising up to leave. "Tis what it is." As the cat began to slip away, he glanced back and smirked. "Can't say I don't envy ya, though."

Misto sighed incredulously as he watched the calico meander away. Perhaps his position _was_ to be envied, but he'd just as soon leave the queens and attention to Tugger - and all the noise that went with it. He wasn't a partier, but when one had magical powers, it was difficult to not be made a fuss over. How he had managed to stay insignificant as long as he did, he had no idea. But it was the case no longer, though he sure wished he could go back to it.

Misto sat brooding with his head in his forepaws, unwittingly becoming invisible yet again as he pondered how to regain his former comfortable status among the Tribe.

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><p>Elsewhere, a duo of toms had no qualms about being in the spotlight, whatsoever.<p>

Tumblebrutus, a young chocolate-and-white tabby tom, strode out into the middle of the junkyard clearing, eyes bright with mischief. He brought a leg to point and spread his arms, which quickly instilled quiet over the gathered Jellicles; he was about to sing. Taking a breath, he glanced over at his friend Pouncival, who was on the sidelines, and winked. Pouncival grinned widely in return; they were ready.

"Take a look at this tom," Tumblebrutus sang out, flicking his forepaw towards his friend, who was striding out to join him. "Now what do you see? His muscles or spots? His stripes, perhaps? Or the way he moves as he dances, maybe?" Here Pouncival gave a cheeky little pirouette, finishing with his arms spread towards the she-kittens who had begun to gather.

"But I would say it was none of that, cats," the chocolate tabby sang, shaking his head. "You see… A cat needs no moves if he has this one thing: an attitude of comedy, and a grin to match!"

Pouncival beamed his pearly whites to stress the point as Tumblebrutus continued. "That Pouncival has, and a jester he be!"

The two toms linked arms and pranced about the clearing as they lifted their voices up together.

"A laugh and a smile, a well timed grin! That is how you bring the ladies in. You need not conspire, nor plot or plan, the way to convince them you're just the man. Just a laugh and a smile, and a well timed grin!"

Now Pouncival moved away from his companion and spread his arms out towards the cat. He turned his head towards the kittens and smirked. "Now glance at him here," he sang, referring to Tumblebrutus; "oh how handsome he be! A smooth and soft coat, his brown and white fur. But that's not just it, and you know it, really." The tom dropped down on his knees and looked seriously at the females – or tried to, anyway – while Tumblebrutus stared down at his fur as if the statement had surprised him. "There's so much more that gives this tom his allure. You see… a tom needs no moves if he has this one thing: an attitude of comedy, and a grin to match. Tumblebrutus has, and a jester he be!"

The chocolate and white tabby seemed to shrug off his previous concern, and joined Pouncival gladly in the chorus.

"A laugh and a smile, a well timed grin! That is how you bring the ladies in! You need not conspire, nor plot or plan, the way to convince them you're just the man! Just a laugh and a smile, and a well timed grin!"

Tumblebrutus gave a quick summersault, springing back up proudly. "Again I say!" he called out. "A laugh and a smile and a well timed grin!"

"That is how you bring the ladies in!" Pouncival sang back with gusto. They then sang together: "You need not conspire, nor plot or plan, the way to convince them you're just the man!"

As if acting on impulse, Pouncival suddenly struck a pose, hips swung to the side and forepaws at an imaginary belt. His friend quickly copied him. The gathered kittens began to chuckle, but attempted to keep their amusement hidden from the subject of the joke, who was chatting with Jellylorum on the other side of the clearing, unseeing.

"No need to flaunt, to strut your flair," they sang, swinging their hips mockingly. "Heck, now that's just a lot of hot air! Don't be like Tugger; we certainly don't need it!"

That the tom _did_ hear, and he spun around to face the singers. A scowl on his face and Jellylorum attempting vainly to hold him back, the black-and-gold tom charged towards the troublemakers. Pouncival kept up impishly.

"For we have a laugh-" he sang.

"And a smile-" Tumblebrutus returned.

"And a well timed grin!" they finished together as Tugger came upon them, larger form dwarfing them. The gold ruff about his neck bristled dangerously, and his eyes were chips of yellow steel. Electra, one of the kittens, chuckled nervously and hid her face.

Pouncival and Tumblebrutus beamed innocently up at the tom. "Hey Tuggs! What's up?" Pouncival asked, as if they had sung no song at all.

"Oh, you know very well," he growled. Without warning Tugger rushed the toms, who went scurrying off with him hot on their tails.

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><p>Across the clearing, Demeter and Bomba stood together with the other older cats, who were watching the collapse of the impromptu song-and-dance routine with amusement. Bomba elbowed Demeter and pointed at the fleeing toms, who were ducking into the pipe in attempt to escape Tugger. With a grin on her elegant face, she told her friend, "They've sure got a mess coming to them." Her eyes glimmered mischief as she watch Tugger slip in after them.<p>

Demeter looked up, startled, as if she hadn't been paying attention. "Hmm?" she said distractedly. "Yeah, yeah."

The red queen looked at Demeter with concern. "Hey, what's up?" she questioned.

Demeter lifted her forepaw in a gesture that said 'nothing,' but Bombalurina knew better than that. She lifted her green gaze and scanned the gathered cats for Munkustrap; he, if any, would know what was up with his mate. After a bit of looking, she spotted the tom standing with Alonzo.

Drifting over to Munkustrap, the queen cast one look back at Demeter. "Is she alright?" Bomba quietly asked the silver tabby.

Munku gazed at his mate, and then returned his eyes to Bomba. "She'll be fine. She's just had Macavity on her mind, because of last night…" he trailed off, hoping the queen would understand. It wasn't a subject that the tom enjoyed talking about; it hurt him to see his mate afraid, especially with him being the guardian of the Tribe. It made him feel as if he let her down.

Bombalurina did understand. She dipped her head to the protector and returned to Demeter's side, confidant that the tortoiseshell would talk about it if she wanted to.

Suddenly there was a screeching yowl from the pipe, with a flurry of hissing and spitting following it. Immediately all the cats dropped to all-fours, prepared to run or fight as the need arose. Demeter's yellow eyes were wide with panic.

Bomba swallowed hard. "Tugger wouldn't have done anything to them," she said to no one in particular. "Right?"

There was some activity in the shadows of the tunnel. First Tumblebrutus and Pouncival backed out, followed by the Rum Tum Tugger, who held himself in a low stance; arms outspread to protect the younger toms from whatever the danger was. When he found himself out in the view of the others, the black-and-gold cat quickly dropped his arms down, but his pose remained defensive.

On high alert, Munkustrap stalked swiftly towards his brother, muscles tense and his head glancing around for a sign of what caused the commotion. The tom paused in the center of the clearing, unmoving, as his gaze skimmed the top of the rubbish heaps. Not a thing seemed out of place. The silver tabby continued forward until he reached his brother's side. "What happened?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

Tugger's amber eyes remained fixed on the pipe, his face more fierce and serious than it had probably ever been - an expression of pure scorn. He made no attempt to quiet his voice as he spoke bitterly; "Macavity."


End file.
